Travels of Albert Solon
by Taskmaster78
Summary: What was the rest of the magical world or at least magical Europe doing while Harry was trying to defeat the Dark Lord? That question is explored in this tale as Solon travels to Europe during the time of book 7. Helpful comments welcomed!
1. Ireland?

Place: small apartment in Dublin, Ireland  
Date: a week since Dumbledore's Funeral

"We should be doing something, sir," said the teenage apprentice.

"And what would that be, my eager student?" replied his master.

"We should be taking the fight to the Death Eaters and their...lord ."

"Well, if you see any, let me know."

"I'm serious, without Dumbledore, who's going to stop them?"

"And you believe we can defeat them all by our lonesome?"

"Well, not by ourselves, but with help from others..."

"Like whom?"

"Like the Ministry of Magic, surely they would like your help."

"But I wouldn't want theirs."

"Well, why not?"

"Their idea of stopping the Death Eaters seems to be putting more bodies in harm's way  
while they think up of a escape plan. Besides, by the time we fill out whatever forms and tests they want us to take, the Death Eaters would have died of old age."

"But what about those rumors of Dumbledore having a group of followers to combat them, or the Boy Who Survived, whose destined to stop... the leader of the Death Eaters."

"I'm sure Albus does have friends to stop the Death Eaters but I doubt they'll trust me. As for the Boy, if he is destined to defeat the one who gave him the scar, who am I to interfere with destiny."

"You can't be serious! People are dying, we have to help somehow."

"And we are, by staying out of the way."

"What! How does that help?"

"As you stated there is a possible three groups who are opposing the Death Eaters, right?

"Well, er, right."

"Well then, why don't we let them do what they are meant to do and stay out of their way."

"Because we should be involved too."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why should we get involved?"

"Because what happens if they fail?"

"Then I'll be concerned."

"Concerned? If they defeat all those groups, we'll either have to submit to their will or die."

"No, we either submit to them or they try to kill us."

"And what makes you so sure they won't succeed in that task?"

"You're panicking, my young apprentice."

"And why not? He's back, his followers have returned with him, other sinister creatures like the Dementors are joining him, the guy who might have stood a chance against him is dead, and a scarred sixteen-year old is supposed to be the one destined to save us all."

"Thank you for stating what I just read in the paper."

"Surly you don't buy that a mere boy is going to stop...him."

"Yet here you are, another mere boy, who seems to think he can."

"Alright then, you grey-bearded four-eyed hag! What, in the name of Merlin, should we do?"

"For starters, not panic and and resort to name calling."

The youth rolled up his eyes. "That aside, I repeat, what should we do?"

The old wizard stroked his beard. "Stay informed with whatever new information the paper are allowed to print. But for the most part, I be less concerned with the Death Eaters and more so with the Ministry. This may deflate your ego, but you're not important enough for the Death Eaters to come after you. You are, however, so insignificant that the Ministry may yet pick you up."

"Gee, thank you sir."

"You're welcome. But in all seriousness, I know that the groups mentioned should be adequate enough to handle Him and his Death Eaters. And even if they aren't, we are in safest spot possible."

"This apartment?"

"This country."

"You're going to have to explain that one to me, sir. I don't get it."

"In the last war against him, his reign of terror reached as far north to Aberdeen, Scotland to Plymouth, England. It even spilled over to mainland Europe, his dark mark sign seen over Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam, and even parts of Russia and Hungary. But there were several places that never felt his dark powers."

"I can see maybe Chile or China or islands so far away from England never having to worry about him. But Ireland and England are just a ten minute flight from each other. I might also add that the magical population of this country is pretty sizable. How could he ignore such a huge population of wizards that could easily disrupt his plans?

"If there is one thing that all would-be conquerers know, be they muggle or wizard, it's to leave the Irish alone."

The teenager let out a laugh and began to ask more questions when he was interrupted by the sound of flapping wings. "Mail's a bit late," he said, "And who could it possibly be from? I don't recall you giving out this address to anyone?"

"Someone who know me," replied the wizard as he read the letter, "An old friend to be exact. Pack your stuff, boy. We're leaving first thing in the morning."

"We are?" said the confused boy, "Where to? What for?"

"I'll explain on the way. Now head off and get ready. It's a long way." spoke the wizard as the teenager went off to his room to pack.

The wizard gave a chuckled and said to himself, "It's been awhile since I last visited the Vatican..."


	2. Roman Brunch

Two days later

Outskirts of Vatican City

Breathing heavy as walked with his teacher, the apprentice complained, "Why can't we wear shorts instead of these robes? And what's with the medals we have around our necks? It's not enchanted or anything, so how is it supposed to help us?"

His teacher replied, "The muggles have a strict dress code here. Shorts aren't allowed here. This is also one of the places that a wizard can were his usual clothing, provided he modifies it with regalia and colors pertinent to the muggle culture that he is visiting. This..,"pointing to the cross the apprentice wear around his neck, "is a symbol of their culture and icon of authority and if we aren't wearing them, we would have a much harder time both blending in with them and gaining access to areas closed off even to other muggles."

"Alright, sir. I just feel wish they stop smiling and nodding every time we walk by. It's a bit unnerving, that's all." said the teenager as he adjusted his collar.

"Fear not, my boy. There is a café up ahead. A friend of mine is waiting for us."

Up ahead was a outside patio with umbrellas to provide shade for the patrons. At one of the patio's table was a older gentleman wearing the clothing a similar to those of the apprentice and his master. Upon seeing the two approaching, the gentleman stood up and waved. "There you are," he said, I've been wondering when the two of you would show up."

The master smiled and waved. When he finally reaches the patio, he told him the man, "Mr. Ferrari, I present to you Thomas Xanthias, my apprentice and protégé. Xanthias, meet Mr. Giuseppe Ferrari, liaison to the Vatican for the Wizardry Council of Italy."

"How do you do, Thomas?" replied Ferrari, "Please take a seat, both of you. I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine as well as asking them to prepare a rather large swordfish I imported off the coast of Sicily for our meals. If I recall, Professor Solon, that's your favorite dish."

"It is, and thank you for remembering," said Solon, "So tell me what's on your mind and why do you need my help. I know you, Ferrari. You wouldn't have gone though all this trouble, by which I mean preparing my favorite food and tracking down my address, just to have dinner. Something is on your mind."

Ferrari chortled, "You always were straight to the point. All right, I'll tell you. It has to do with..." he stopped and looked around, then continued with a much lower voice, "It has to do with Voldemort."

Thomas turned pale when Ferrari said that name. "Don't say his name," he said, "Nothing good can come by speaking his name."

Ferrari's face was one of exasperation. "I wasn't afraid to speak Grindelwald's name when his followers invaded Bologna," he said, and continued when he saw Thomas' blank face. "Grindelwald was a dark wizard who preceded Voldemort by at least a good forty or so years."

"Ooh, I see. You fought him, then?" asked a curious Thomas

"No, Dumbledore fought Grindelwald, up in Northern Europe. I fought a group of his followers on their way to Florence wanting to ransack my beloved city," answered Ferrari. "Honestly Albert, your protégé needs to study harder on his history."

"Something to be remedied at a later time," Solon replied, "Now back to the matter at hand. What is it that you want, Ferrari?"

Ferrari answered him, "For starters, information. Tell me Solon, how bad is it up there? Does your Ministry have a fighting chance against the Death Eaters? And what of young Potter, do you truly believe that he is the 'Chosen One' that the papers claim he is?"

Solon sighed and stroked his beard. "Well, Dumbledore is dead. That alone should tell you how well it's going. I have little faith in the Ministry, who seem to be more concerned in appearances then in actual results. As for young Potter, his claim to fame was surviving the Killing Curse with nothing more then a scar. I've also heard some rumors that Dumbledore was teaching Potter some advanced magic prior to his death. And even if that wasn't the case, I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore's supporters gave Potter assistance and information to defeat the Death Eaters and their leader once and for all."

The gears in Ferrari's head turned as he thought over what Solon had just said. "I see. In that case, I should inform the Council to place our Hunter Squads on stand-by, becoming operational only if the fighting spills close to our borders. As much as I would like Potter to be the 'Chosen One', it would be foolish to not take precautions."

"Forgive me for interrupting but what are these 'Hunters' you spoke of? Are they like Aurors?" asked a curious Thomas.

"That's probably the best way to put it," replied Ferrari. "By the way Thomas, could you check on cooks to see if the fish is ready? If it's not, stay with them till it's done. Odds are they'll probably need your help."

"I agree, go help the cooks, Thomas," Solon added.

"Yes, sir," said a downhearted Thomas as he headed inside the café.

"Nothing against your apprentice Solon, but I don't know him and I would like to talk to you without having to explain everything," Ferrari explained once Thomas left. "Anyway, I have a proposition for you. There is talk among the Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and Greek wizardry governments to establish a wizardry school on the same level as the other three big schools in Europe. How would you like to be its Headmaster?"

Solon's eyes widened and he couldn't speak for a moment. Then his senses returned. "Have you and your allies thought this through? This isn't the middle ages. What kind of architecture will the school have? Do you have blueprint or layout plans? What language will be used and how will you get the students from different countries to speak, write, and understand that language? Where are going to get the funds to not only build the school, but provide salaries for teachers, books and materials for students and transportation for both? And where are you going to build it? You can't just build it anywhere without disturbing the muggles or harpies or dragons or whatever happens to be living in that area? Do you even have an idea as to how many students you're going to accept, which will affect how many teachers and staff you need for the school? And why now? For centuries, those countries have done well without a school of that size. What's different now?"

Ferrari laughed and shook his head, saying, "This is another reason I wanted your student to leave. I knew I would have so many questions from you, that I wouldn't be in the mood to answer any others. The details can wait. My peers and I are still working over some of them. But I'll tell you the why. It is based on the following points: the muggle population is increasing, the number of pure-blooded wizards is decreasing, and ideas never die. Are you with me so far, Solon?"

"So far yes, and I agree with the those three points." answered Solon

"Good, then I'll continue," said Ferrari, "As the number of pure-blooded wizards goes down, it'll eventually reach the point where the wizardry community would have to resort to marrying muggles to ensure that more wizards are born, lest it dies out altogether. Is that a fair statement to make, Solon?"

Solon made a face, but nodded

Ferrari continued, "With that statement in mind, as well as the first point that muggles are growing exponentially, the line between the muggle world and wizardry world will become blurry and almost but not quite disappear. If this was so, and the muggles and wizards began to see more and more of the other's world, will the transition be a smooth, peaceful one?"

"Of course not!" stated Solon, "That's why we cut ourselves off from muggle society in 1692 and passed the Wizarding Secrecy Statute. They feared us and would have killed us all if we hadn't taken measures to ensure our survival. And even when we did disappear, those that either pretended to be wizards or refused to disappear with us were still prosecuted by the muggles up to the present day. As you said, ideas never die, and neither do fears. If we were show ourselves to them now, mayhem will ensue from both sides. But what does all this with the school you want me to head?"

Ferrari answered him, "When the two worlds begin to mesh, this school will be at the forefront of helping the transition. By providing education to future generations that they have nothing to fear from muggles, and vice versa. I don't just want to teach students how to thrive in the wizardry world. I want them to be able to thrive in the muggle world as well."

Solon let out a low whistle, "You never did think small. But don't you feel that the plan is a bit overly ambitious? Bear in mind that before we can even think of revealing ourselves to the muggles, we still got to get the International Confederation to approve anything that will overturn the Secrecy Law."

"I don't plan on having the school built or wizards and muggles shaking hands by tomorrow. Especially in lieu of what's happening to our British brethren," Ferrari snapped. "But we should at least get the groundwork ready. Get the blueprints ready and the alliances forged. That way, when British Ministry is done dealing with Death Eaters, we can get started on the school. I already have ample support from Spain, France, and Italy. It's the Greek wizards that I need to muster more support from. That, incidently, is also why I called for you."

"Do tell," inquired Solon.

"The Greeks fear that if Voldemort gains control of the British Isles, he'll make a move to seize control of their homeland and steal their most powerful relics," Ferrari said. "If that were to happen, they aren't prepared for it. Most of their personnel haven't faced dark wizards before, and are in dire need of those who have. Those who lived though Grindelwald's reign remember the defense you lead for their country. So an unofficial agreement was made that if I can get you to help them in defense, they would give their support for the school. So what do you think? Will you help, Solon?"

Solon eyed Ferrari. So that's it, he thought. "Why," Solon asked, "should I help? Why would I leap at the chance to put myself in harm's way for those countries and you? What could I possibly gain from helping you?"

"The one thing you value above all else," Ferrari answered. "Knowledge. I let it slipped that you are an academic at heart. How would you like to have the spell book of Circe the Sorceress?"

"Keep going,"said an interested Solon.

Ferrari added, "It won't be yours to keep. Bear that in mind. But as long as it made its way back to the Greeks, I think I can persuade them to loan it to you for an indefinite time, as well other ancient texts and artifacts. So again I ask, do I have your support? Will you help the Greeks?"

Solon stroked his beard as he mulled over Ferrari's offer. On the one hand, he thought, I only get my reward after Voldemort is defeated and I survive till then. On the other hand, I've always wanted to study that book, and the Greeks tend to be very protective when it comes their ancient, magical artifacts. After much thought, he answered Ferrari smiling.

"When do I start?" he asked.


	3. It's all Greek to me

The next several days consisted of Solon getting his paperwork in order for his trip to Greece. Ferrari and his Greek counterparts helped the process along, ensuring that all the arrangements, from living quarters to a stipend for miscellaneous expenses, were set up and ready for him. Eventually, Solon and Thomas headed off to Athens. There, they meet Theodoros Markis, head of Internal Security in his chambers.

"Well, let's get to the point," Markis began. "Ever since the Death Eaters re-appeared in the British Isles, we've had a massive upswing in dark magic activities. As far as we know, they are not following the orders of Voldemort or any of his followers. Rather, they are non-affiliated dark wizards taking advantage of the British crisis to either gain support from the Death Eaters or carry out whatever agendas they have. There are two main areas of concern."

Markis then pointed to a large map of Greece. "The first is the southern Aegean sea. The Dodecanese and Cycladic island groups, along with other islands in the area, provide ideal hiding places for these criminals. The second problem area is Eastern European borders. A disturbing amount of dark magic crimes have been committed along the Bulgarian and Albanian borders. We have reason to believe that some of Grindelwald's followers are behind it, seeing Voldemort as some sort of rallying symbol."

Markis continued on. "Now, you will be living in small flat in Central Macedonia that has two portkeys. One will lead you to a safe house in Corfu, close to the Albanian border. The other will lead to another safe house in the Drama Prefecture, south of the Bulgarian border. My men will give you updates via owl and floo network. For the most part, your primary responsibility is to distill all the information my men give you and coordinate the patrols accordingly. You will also be training my men who patrol those areas with advanced spells and tactics that they'll need in the field and, should the situation require it, enter the field and lead them yourself. Any questions?"

"What happened to all of your people that I lead against Grindelwald's followers?" Solon asked. "Surely, they would be more adapt at teaching your men then me."

Markis answered, "Most of them have either seen too much that they are of no use to anyone, can't teach their skills to others, or dead. That's why we need experienced fighters like yourself. My men are willing and skilled, but lack the experience and knowledge necessary to combat the dark arts."

"I see. I'll do what I can." Solon replied.

The next month and beyond saw Solon and Thomas spending most of their time in the flat, analyzing and sorting out whatever information the Markis's men give them. The rest of the time was spent between Corfu and the Drama Prefecture training the men in defensive and offensive spells against the dark arts. With his aid, the number of casualties among the men went down along with the number of dark magic activities. While not as bad as the situation in England (which, according to whatever information Solon can get his hands on, is becoming worse), it was still enough to keep Solon very busy man.

Time: Early August in the afternoon

Place: Solon's flat in Central Macedonia

Solon is looking over a map of Bulgaria's Greek border, his mind deep in thought. Then without warning, "AHA! That's where it is." cried Solon.

Sitting in the same room, his apprentice dropped his reports and looked over to his teacher. "What?" Thomas asked, "that's where what is?"

"That," Solon pointed to the map, "is where the dark wizards meet and keep base. In this region right here."

"Are you certain, sir?" inquired Thomas.

"Positive," replied Solon, "It's the only place where the can come together in large enough numbers before crossing the border to harass the Greeks. Fetch my pouch, staff, and cloak, Thomas, while I send out messages to Markis and his men."

And with that, Thomas ran to his professor's room to get the items. Meanwhile Solon wrote as fast as he could, preparing to send out letters. Got to get all this done, he thought, before I head off. "You ready Thomas?" Solon shouted. "Coming, sir," replied a harried Thomas rushing to Solon, hands clutching a large pouch, cloak, and staff.

"Thank you, Thomas," Solon said as Thomas handed him his belongings. "Go grab your stuff while I look over a few things. You're going to need them."

Later that day, after sunset

South Rhodope Mountains along the Bulgarian border

Looking over the mountains and preparing to meet the dark wizards, Solon prepares himself and gives last minute instructions to Thomas.

"When I give the signal, contact Markis's men with the enchanted coin I gave you. Do not contact them before hand, even if it looks like I'm in trouble. We have to catch them on this side of the border, lest we start an international incident. Once the signal is given, and if it looks like the fighting is still be going on, I give you permission to join the fray. Do you understand and accept my instructions?" asked Solon.

"Yes sir,"replied Thomas, "But why do you need the staff? Won't that just slow you down? And how will I know when you give the signal?"

"With this,"answered Solon as he handed Thomas an Omniocular, "I had it modified after the Quidditch World Cup. You should see my signal with no problem. As for the staff, the terrain can get rather dangerous, so I'll need something to keep my balance."

And with staff in one hand and wand in other, he waved goodbye to Thomas and headed off to engage the dark wizards. It should be noted that whenever he headed off to battle, he almost understood the Gyrffindors and their ideals.

Almost.


	4. academic 1 thugs 0

Somewhere in the Rhodope mountains sat three wizards around a campfire, waiting for their companions to come. "Don't know what's holding them up? They should have been here by now," one of them said.

"This isn't exactly a walk in the clouds. Damn border patrols have beefed security. I say we wait a little while longer and if they don't show up, we head off without them." said the second one.

"Hold on, I think I see them," cried the third. "Yeah, I think it's them coming over. Took them long enough."

The group become five as the newcomers came to the campfire. "Glad you guys didn't leave without us," said one of the newcomers, "Damn constables wouldn't stop chasing us, but we managed to give the slip a while back. Besides, I got some interesting news for all of you. The Ministry has fallen."

"I thought you said they were still chasing you," said the man closest to the fire

"No, no, not the Bulgarian Ministry. I meant the British Ministry," said the newcomer, "The Dark Lord now rules the British Isles. It's only a matter of time before he extends his influence to the rest of the world. Rumors are already flying that he's in Europe."

"And just how do you know all this?" asked one of his colleagues.

The newcomer shrugged and said, "I know a guy who's in the know."

"Well as interesting as that is," said a man getting up to put out the campfire, "It's getting later and I would like to play a good game of 'Beg or Squeal' with the Greek muggles before I head off to bed. So if you don't mind, let's head off."

And with that, the wizards put out the fire, broke camp, and prepared to depart.

"Everybody ready?" asked one of the wizards as he sat upon his flying carpet, "then let's fly!"

Thus, the five wizards took off to the skies, three riding carpets, two on brooms.

"Now we're heading to a small orphanage in the middle of nowhere, Greece," said the lead wizard, "No one will notice if we have a bit of fun with them, provided we burn it down afterwards. Now anyone want to make a bet if the first orphan we crucio will beg or ...GAAAAHHHHH!"

Without warning, the brooms and carpets the wizards were riding on gave a sudden jolt and began to fall to the earth. Screaming profanities and waving wands, the wizards tried anything and everything they can think of to keep from dying. There were several thuds that hit the earth.

Dazed but alive, the lead wizard got up from the ground and began to look for his companions.

"Hello? Anybody?" he shouted, "Is anyone alive?"

"Over here!" answered one of them, lying on the ground and waving for assistance, "Help! My ass! It blew off my ass..."

"Don't move, I'm coming!" said the lead wizard as he hurried to his wounded companion.

By the time the point wizard went up to where the wounded wizard, there was another one of his companions looking down at the wounded wizard.

"What happened?" asked the second wizard

"How the hell should I now?" said the wounded wizard, "One moment, everything is fine. The next thing I know, the carpet and I are falling to the earth. I managed to pull a last minute spell to soften the landing, but somehow, I managed to land face up on my wand. It blew up and took my ass with it."

"Your ass aside, you alright?" asked the lead wizard.

"I'm fine," said the wounded wizard, "but my wand is broken. What about the rest of our companions?"

"The rest are dead," replied the second wizard, "I don't know what spells they were trying to use but it didn't work. I managed to turn the ground I was about to crush on to a giant, comfy mattress. And even then, I barely landed on it."

"But what should we do now though?" asked the lead wizard, "Whoever or whatever messed with our carpets and brooms will surely be after us in a bit. I say we get going before they meet us."

"I agree," said the wounded wizard, "But how are you guys going to take me with you? I can't walk, though if you turn a large rock to a floating stretcher, it won't be too bad."

I'm afraid," said the second wizard with his wand drawn at the wounded wizard, "That you are now a liability. Nothing personal, it's just that you'll slow us down."

"No!" cried the wounded man, "You can't! I beg of you, don't, please, please don't...I won't slow you down...please..."

The second pointed his wand right at the man's heart. "Avada Ked-arrrrrgh!" he yelled as both he and the point wizard were hit by a large blue ripple of light and were pushed to the ground.

The wounded man looked at the direction that the ripple came from and saw an old wizard, dressed in blue and white, holding a large oak staff that had white gem at its top in one hand, and a wand in the other.

"By the authority of the Office of Internal Security," said the old wizard, "I command all of you to drop your wands and put your hands on your head. Failure to do so will result in death or serious injury."

The uninjured dark wizards shouted profanities and began to hurl spells at the old wizard. The old wizard fought back and began to duel both wizards, one held at bay with his staff, the other with his wand. For a several tense minutes, the three wizards dueled two against one. The point wizard, seeing a moment of weakness, managed use Expelliarmus to disarm the staff for the old wizard. The old wizard, however, managed to use Petrificus Totalua upon his foe just before he was disarmed of his staff.

With one of his foes binded and unable to fight, the old wizard focused his attention to the remaining adversary. Beams of light flashed in the night as the two combatants fought each other, though to be fair, the old wizard was the one with the advantage. Whatever spell hurled at the old wizard, he blocked with Finite Incantatem or Protego Horribilis, or merely moved out of the way, much to the ire of remaining dark wizard. Finally, the old wizard defeated his opponent by sending two stunning spells right at his chest. The dark wizard fell and dropped to the ground.

The old wizard then picked up his staff, and began to walk to the wounded wizard.

"I surrender!" cried the wounded man, "I give up!... I, I... I'm disarmed...I place myself underneath your authority! I ...please don't kill me..."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already." said the old wizard and the wounded man began to relax. "But," the old wizard continued, "I want information. As long as you answer my questions truthfully, you'll live and receive proper medical attention. Fail to do so and...well...let's just say that it's in your self-interest to tell the truth. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, sir," replied the wounded man, "What do you want to know?"

"A good deal but before I start," said the old wizard as he raised his staff to the air and fired three spheres of light up to the air. "And while I'm at it, Accio wands," he continued as the wands of his foes came flying to him. "Can't be too careful, though I'm fairly certain your friends will be out for quite awhile. By the way, how are you doing? Do you require bandages or has the bleeding stopped?" he asked as put the wands to his pouch.

"There wasn't really that much bleeding to begin with," the wounded man replied, "It was more like someone got a hot sword and cut off part of my bum, but since it was hot, it burned and sealed most the wound. Though I would feel more comfortable back at a hospital."

"I see. Drink this," said Solon was a pulled a small flask from his pouch, "While I transfigure the ground you're on to a comfy bed, alright?"

"Fair enough," said the wounded man as he realized that he didn't have a say in the matter. After he gulped the liquid in the flask, he began to feel a bit off. "What was it that I just drank?"

"Veritaserum," the old wizard said as he conjured a bed for the wounded man. "Like I said, can't be too careful. Now, I really don't care about your name. But where do you hail from?"

The wounded man, comfortable in the newly made bed and under the influence of the truth serum, spoke with no hesitation. "I've been living in Denmark for awhile, but I'm Polish by birth."

"Denmark?" said the old wizard, surprised, "That's a bit far from here. What has brought you to Bulgaria?"

"I was looking for my brethren," said the wouned man, "Those of us who are not afraid of using spells others may consider dark. Who feel that wizards should no longer hide from muggles, but rather conquer them."

"Are you a Death Eater or in any way been contacted by them or Voldemort himself?" asked the old wizard.

"I have been contacted by the Death Eaters," replied the wounded man, "but I have yet to become a member"

"Did they pass on any information about their activities?" inquired the old wizard

"Yes, I was to share that with my breathen." said the wounded man with a grin on his face.

"What did they tell you?" asked the old wizard, fearing what he was about to hear.

The wounded man smiled broadly and said, "They told me to rejoice for the British Ministry has fallen. They now rule Britannia. Those who would be a threat are being hunted as we speak. It is only a matter of time before the Dark Lord comes to claim the rest of Europe as well."

The old wizard looked intently at the wounded man. It wasn't the news that shook him, but rather the conviction, the certainty in the voice that shook him. By time his apprentice came with Markis's men, he looked as if just witnessed a very brutal crime.

"Professor?" asked his apprentice, concern in his voice, "Professor Solon? Are you alright? Something wrong?"

"Yes," said Solon, his eyes looking at the distance. "I fear things are about to get worse."


	5. European Worries

Date: August 22nd

Place: Athens, Markis's chambers

The news that Solon and Markis have dreaded has been realized. Voldemort has been spotted in Continental Europe. Looking at a map the size of a very large table, Markis voices his frustration to Solon.

"Damn it all!" cried Markis, "Why didn't they tell us weeks ago? We should have been notified the moment he entered Belgium! Look at this! Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, and now we hear reports that he's been seen in Romania as well! What the hell is he up to?"

"I don't know," said Solon, looking over the map, "But if I had to make a guess, I say he's looking for something...or someone."

"What makes you think it's that?" said Markis, "How do you know this isn't part of his plan to take over Europe?"

"Because if he wanted to take over Europe, where are his armies, his minions?" Solon asked, "From what little information we can get, he's traveling alone. Granted, he's powerful. But no man can take over the world by his lonesome, regardless of their power. Also, if he was going to take over Europe, then why haven't we received any reports of him in or near a country's capital? Why have they all been in obscure villages and hamlets?"

Markis tilted his head back in thought. "Even so," he said, "How do you know that he's looking for something?"

"Look at his activities." Solon said, pointing to the map, "If he knew where whatever it is is located, he wouldn't be making this many side stops. He doesn't know where it is, so he's searching in whatever locations he can think of that will gave him clues to its location."

Stoking his face, Markis said, "Assuming you're correct, what is he looking for? What could grab his attention so much that he would leave the isles?"

Solon let out a sigh and said, "I don't know. Perhaps Potter fled to Europe, with Voldemort in pursuit. Maybe there is a disloyal Death Eater that he wishes to see dead. Or maybe it's an item that he seeks. I doubt it's an item we have in our possession, because if it was one of the relics of Greece, or any other country for that matter, he would have gone there directly and taken it."

"Could you at least predict where he's heading next?" asked Markis.

"He's heading deeper into Southeastern Europe," said Solon as he surveyed the map, "For whatever reason, he seems to be leaving what used to be Yugoslavia alone. If that continues to be the case, I say he'll turn up in Bulgaria. After that, if he continues to travel south, he'll either head towards Turkey and the Black Sea region...or...the Aegean Sea and therefore...Greece."

The head of Internal Security let out a heavy sigh. "In that case, I'll contact the Bulgarian Ministry in Sophia," Markis replied, "They're probably reinforcing their defenses already, but it couldn't hurt to warn them. Besides, they're much more willing to share information with us, unlike the rest of Europe. In the meantime, see if you can figure out what the hell Voldemort is after. The sooner we know, the more likely we can stop him from getting whatever it is he wants. I also want you to stay in the Drama Prefecture. If he does head towards Greece, it'll be through the Bulgarian border. If that happens, I want you to personally lead the defense."

The next couple of days, Solon poured over any and all reports and sightings of Voldemort, trying to find some sort of pattern. As far as he knew, Potter was still alive and in England, no Death Eaters have attempted to betray their master, and none of the villages where he had been spotted in had any known relics or artifacts that would grab his attention. In fact, the villages, as far as he could tell, had no relation to each other whatsoever, save that they were all out of the way from the rest of the wizardry population.

Which means, Solon thought, if Voldemort were enter Greece, he wouldn't head towards cities like Athens or Thessaloníki, nor would head towards Crete or the ruins of Sparta, where he knows they'll have high security. It'll have to be somewhere out of the way. The islands, he thought, in the Aegean Sea. But the question still remains: what or who is he after?

Solon began to look over the names of those the Dark Lord had killed in those countries. Despite the length of it, the list failed to provide in any insights at to what Voldemort was up to. None of the victims made any sort of contact with Death Eaters, Order members, Dumbledore, Potter, or even Ministry officials (their countries' or the British). In fact, most of them never left the borders of their own towns, much less their countries. What can it be, Solon thought, and what is it that ties all these people together? He would spend much of his nights at his desk, trying to see some sort of clue or pattern that would hint at what or who Voldemort was after.

One night, lost in thought, he hears a knock at the door. Thomas walked in. "I just received a report from the Bulgarian Ministry, sir." he said, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been spotted in their country."

"Damn it!" cried Solon, startling his apprentice, "Alright, let me see it."

Thomas handed the report to Solon. According to the report, Voldemort was seen entering an abandoned building a few kilometers from Sofia. Fourteen people were killed, including a family of five. The building used to be a...wand shop? And not just any wand store. It used to Gregorovitch's shop. Solon suddenly began to look over the list with renewed vigor.

Of course! Why didn't he see it before? Most of the locations had some sort of local wand shop in the area. Most if not all of these shops were in some way influenced or linked somehow to Gregorovitch . Solon knew he would have to check the victims' backgrounds, but he was willing to bet that all the victims, either personally or professionally, knew Gregorovitch. But he retired years ago. What could Gregorovitch possibly have that Voldemort would seek him out? And then Solon remember an old rumor about the wand maker. Something that he thought was just another sales pitch to get more customers.

But the more he thought about it, the more frighten he became. Gregorovitch said that he was duplicating properties of the Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny. What if the wand maker wasn't joking? What if he really can duplicate the Elder Wand? If he was just bragging, Heaven help Gregorovitch when Voldemort finds him. "And if wasn't bragging," Solon said with a very small voice, "Heaven help us."

Later that night, Markis's chambers

"He's going after the Gregorovitch so he can give him Elder Wand. Or a wand as powerful as the Elder Wand." Solon said to a bleary-eyed Markis.

Markis straighten up the moment he heard 'Elder Wand,' "Are you sure?" asked Markis.

"Positive," Solon replied, "The attack on Gregorovitch's old shop proves as much."

The color in Markis's face began to fade. "Surely you don't think that Gregorovitch has the Elder Wand in his possession?" Markis asked, "I know of the rumor you're thinking of and I'm confident that was just him boosting to gain more customers."

"Then why would Voldemort be looking for him?" asked Solon.

"Perhaps he's not as smart as he thinks he is," replied Markis, "Or Gregorovitch is that good of a salesman."

"Look," said Solon, eyes narrowed toward Markis, "We both know that's a load of bull. Voldemort wouldn't be going through half of Europe over an advertisement. He wants Gregorovitch, and the only thing that he could possibly have of interest is either the Elder Wand or a wand just as powerful."

Markis glared back at Solon. "Are you sure that Voldemort is indeed after Gregorovitch as well as the Elder Wand?"

"I'm certain that Voldemort is after him. As for the Elder Wand, unless Gregorovitch has some other incredibly powerful relic in his possession, I say it's the wand."

Markis sank back to his chair and thought. "As far I as I know, Gregorovitch is not in Greece. Whether or not Voldemort knows this is a different tale. Unless you know otherwise, continue to patrol the Bulgarian borders."

"And what about finding Gregorovitch and the Elder Wand? We can't let Voldemort get his hands on it." Solon asked.

"I know that," Markis fired back, "But what are we supposed to do about it? If I know that Voldemort would leave Greece alone, I might be able to spare a few men to search for the wand. But I can't afford to send anyone out of the country, especially with Voldemort so close by."

"I understand. But shouldn't we warn the other countries what it is that Voldemort is after?" Solon said.

Markis let out a sigh. "It'll be a waste of ink," he said "But I was planning on doing that anyway. Who knows? They might even be helpful."


	6. Read the fine print

September 5th

Place: Athens, Markis's Chambers

" 'Failure to share information with wizardry brethren?' " said Markis as he paced the floor, speaking aloud, "Voldemort is traveling through Europe for the over a month and the Germans accuse me of not sharing information with them? Out of all the slimy, disgusting..."

"What did you expect?" said Solon sitting in a comfy chair, "The German Ministry blotched things up and they're looking for someone to blame. If you're worried about your job, I doubt your Minister would remove you from your post. You've done too much to combat the security problems that have arisen since Voldemort's return. Besides, we did send out those owls, remember?"

"Yeah and a fat lot of good that did," snapped Markis, "How were we supposed to know that Gregorovitch was hiding out in Luxembourg? We did what we could with the information that we had and warned them of what we knew. Maybe if they had shared the information that they had, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"The question we have now," Solon replied, "is this: what do we, as in you, me, and mainland Europe, do about it? Clearly, Voldemort is still a threat and needs to be stopped. I'm amazed that the ICW isn't up in arms right now at Britain for allowing him to roam free."

"I doubt they are and here's why: if they go after the British Ministry, then they would have to reprimand half of Europe as well. From what I heard, they're going to do what they always do: form a committee to investigate the problem," Markis answered.

"Oh joy, that sounds like fun. I wonder who the poor sods are that have to attend that waste of time," asked Solon.

"Now that you mentioned it," said Markis with a broad grin, "the Minister wants you to personally attend the 'emergency session' that the ICW are going to hold."

"What?" cried Solon, "Why me? I would have thought that either you or the Minister would be have to attend the meeting."

"I can't very well leave my post to attend a trivial meeting and the Minister is traveling the countryside to win re-election." Markis said, "You, on the other hand, are the only person important enough to attend the meeting that doesn't have any commitments or posts that requires you to stay in the country. Besides, you were the one that figured out who it was that Voldemort was after. It makes sense that you would be the one to attend the meeting."

Solon had a face of one biting into a lemon. "I hate it when you make sense," he grumbled, "All right, I'll go. But I better get paid overtime for this. Where is the conference being held at?"

"Munich," Markis answered, "So get your stuff ready. The meeting begins three days from now at ten in the morning, German time. Be punctual. It wouldn't look good if Greece's representative showed up late for it."

Date: September 8th

Place: The German Chancery of the International Confederation of Wizards (ICW) in Munich

Solon entered the chancery with a sense of awe and dread. It was an impressive building, its interior filled with paintings and statues presenting important moments in magical history. When he entered the assembly hall, he was amazed at what he saw. All around him were ministers and leaders from all over Europe, talking with one another and preparing to take their seats. He thought he saw Ferrari among the crowd and was going to greet him when a voice boomed, asking everyone to take their seats.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming," said the Supreme Mugwump in the center of the room, "The emergency meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards is now in session. We have but one topic on the agenda, the growing problem of the dark wizard known as Voldemort. The British Ministry have failed to contain the dark wizard within their borders and now he has been spotted in Eastern Europe, killing those that cross him. The British Ministry is hereby reprimanded for allowing the situation to deteriorate as it did and spill on to Europe's borders."

The room become filled with murmuring.

"What? why?" cried Pius Thicknesse, British Minister of Magic, "We did everything we could with all the information we had."

"Actually, you didn't," boomed the Supreme Mugwamp's voice, "This body knows that the British Ministry had intelligence reports that Voldemort had returned. Our informant was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Supreme Mugwump of this very body at the time. But rather then acting upon said intelligence and coming up with a plan to contain the threat, your predecessor, Cornelius Fudge, refused to believe Dumbledore and started a smear campaign against him instead. Just before his forced removal by your ministry, however, Dumbledore sent that information to members of this very body. "

A very annoyed Thicknesse replied, "Wait a minute. If you knew so much, why didn't you share this information with my office?

"We did inform your minister of the information we heard," continued the Supreme Mugwamp, "However, your ministry told this body that Dumbledore was mis-informed and that they were able to look after their own country's affairs. Clearly, that is not the case. Dumbledore was right. Yet, even then, the British Ministry refused to ask for help from this body, saying over and over that they can handle it."

"And we have," said Thicknesse, "The death eaters are defeated and he-who-must-not-be-named has been exiled from the lands."

The Supreme Mugwamp raised an eyebrow and said, "Then perhaps you can explain to this body why Voldemort is killing Europe's citizens, why certain Death Eaters are in positions of authority in the ministry, and why the man believed to have a hand in Dumbledore's death is currently the headmaster of Hogwarts,"

Thicknesse replied unshaken, "Those can easily be explained. Snape was tried and found not guilty of the murder of Albus Dumbledore, or any wrong doing for that matter. The same can be said of the alleged "Death Eaters" you speak of. As for...ur...um...him...we apologize for his arrival to Europe. We drove him off, knowing that he was no match for the might of the British Ministry.

The Romanian Minister stood up and pointed his finger accusingly at Thicknesse. "What did you think was going to do in Europe, sell cockroach clusters?" he shouted, "Our citizens are dead because of your incompetence!" The other representatives chimed in, either praising the Romanian Minister or insulting Thicknesse.

"Order! Order!" roared the Supreme Mugwamp, silencing the room. He continued on, "This body will review the proper penalties that your ministry will charged at a later time. You may leave if you wish, Mr. Thickenesse.Your office will be notified of those penalties as soon as there are passed by this body. And no, you don't have a say in the vote."

And with that, Thicknesse and his aides left the hall, sulking as the walked past the assembly.

"That takes care of the first item on the agenda," said the Supreme Mugwamp, "The second item is to discuss the idea of forming a international coalition to combat Voldemort and his followers."

"As noble of an idea it is, said the Russian Minister, "I fail to see how effective it would be. My ministry is more then capable to take care of its people. Besides, from what OUR intelligence have told us, Voldemort is only in Europe because of Dumbledore's Order. Once he's killed them, he'll return to Britain where he'll remain their problem. I say let him remain their problem.

"Where is your sense of community for your fellow wizards?" demanded the Dutch Minister, "We all remembered the cry of help that came from your ministry when Gridelwald was attacking. How Dumbledore raced from Hogwarts to free your country and..."

"If I recall," countered the Russian Minister, "Dumbledore sat on his hands for years before he decided to confront Grindelwald. So, fair is fair. If Voldemort is still around and posses and threat to the wizardy community of Russia years from now, then action will be taken. Till then, my ministry will not sponsor anything this body passes."

"While I disagree with my colleague's reasoning, his conclusion is sound," said the German Minister, "Why must we waste time and effort to clean up the errors of another nation? Especially one that is more then capable of taking care of itself. So long as we share information with one another to track Voldemort's movements, we have nothing to fear."

"But just as dragonpox spreads if left untreated, so too will Voldemort's influence," said the French Minister, "We know that he has followers and collaborators overseas in our countries. We remember when they attacked and harassed our citizens. That is something that we wish to not see repeated."

"How do you know that Voldemort is still a threat? The British Minister just assured us that his ministry had defeated the death eaters and that Voldemort is on the run," said the Swiss Minister.

"I motion that we take a recess," said Solon, speaking for the first time, "We've already handled one of the items. Perhaps a break will re-freshen us and provide insights with dealing with the second item at hand."

"I second the motion," said one of the Italian delegates.

"All in favor of a recess, say aye," asked the Supreme Mugwamp. "AYE!" replied the hall. "All oppose?" he continued. No nays were heard. "This meeting is recessed and will reconvene in twenty minutes." said the Supreme Mugwamp.

The delegates began to leave their seats and headed towards the lobby. Solon was heading there himself when a familiar voice called him.

"I thought I that was you, Solon," said a beaming Ferrari, "What are you doing here? Got tired of Athens and decided to see Munich instead?"

"Actually, I was 'nudged' to come and be the Greek delegation," replied Solon

"Ah, I see, I see," nodded Ferrari, "Speaking of Greece, I understand that you've made remarkable changes for their ministry. Well done, Solon. I knew you can do it."

"Thanks. Now about the book...," asked Solon.

"All in good time, Solon, all in good time" answered Ferrari, "Now if you'll excuse me, I must speak with a few ministers before the recess is done." He then headed towards a group of ministers in the lobby.

Solon would spend the recess wondering if Ferrari would up hold his end of the bargain. He become lost in his thoughts when a voice boomed, asking everyone to return to their seats.

"This meeting is now back in session," said the Supreme Mugwamp, "Mr. Ferrari, you have the floor."

"Thank you, sir, " said Ferrari, "Fellow delegates, we have a problem. That problem is information. We don't know Voldemort's whereabouts, his condition, how many followers he has, if he even has any left. The only to obtain this information is to send someone to London to investigate."

"But many of us have duties and obligations that simply won't allow us to head overseas," said the Czech delegate, "Is there anyone who's a member of this body that doesn't have those tasks?"

"I know someone present in this body who is perfect for the job," said Solon, "I propose that this body sends Albert Solon of the Greek delegation to London to investigate this mystery."

Solon was startled by the annoucment. Did he just say what I think he just said, he thought.

The room was filled with mummerings. "Does he have the proper training?...Is he trustworthy?" they asked.

Ferrari held his hands up to pause the hall, then continued on. "Mr. Solon is the one who helped Greece with its dark wizards problem and was the one that first relaized that Voldemort was after Gregorovitch. Clearly, this man can fight the dark arts just as easily as he solves problems and mysteries. What more could this body want?"

"Since the alternatives heard were worse," said the Russian Minister, "I second Mr Ferrari's proposal."

"All in favor of Mr. Ferrari proposal, say aye," asked the Supreme Mugwamp. "AYE!" replied the hall. "All oppose?" he continued. A few distant nays were heard. "Motion is passed. Albert Solon will investiagate the matter for this body, pending addition training and clearance from this body." said the Supreme Mugwamp.

Solon had no idea what had just happened. But, he knew that he and Ferrari were in for a very long talk.


	7. A nice chat

An outraged Solon entered the lobby and confronted Ferrari.

"What the hell was that all about?" Solon asked a sitting Ferrari.

"Do calm down and take a seat, Solon," replied Ferrari, as he pointed towards the chair in front.

"I don't want to take a seat," said Solon, "I want answers!"

Rolling his eyes, Ferrari replied, "Very well then. What do you want to know?"

Deciding to take a seat, Solon asked, "Why did you nominate me for the post? Why did you pick me to head to London?"

"Because you are the obvious choice," answered Ferrari, "You have no obligations or posts that require your attention and, if you don't mind flattery, are very competent wizard."

Solon was far from convinced, asking "and what if I refuse?"

"That is your right," said Ferrari, "but I don't think you will."

"How do you know?" snapped Solon.

"Because I know you," Ferrari calmly replied, "Because you're just as curious as I am to find out what is happening in London. Besides, I'll make sure you're handsomely rewarded."

Solon chuckled a bit and said, "Thanks, but I still haven't been paid for my current job you talked me into."

"If you're referring to the book, I assure you that you will receive it by the end of the month," answered Ferrari, "Though I would recommend leaving it in Greece. A book like that isn't something that you want to take to London."

"I can take care of it," shrugged Solon.

"But why take an unnecessary risk?" asked Ferrari, "Surely you know the mayhem that the Death Eaters can unleash if they get their hands on that book."

"I didn't say I take it to London," said Solon, "But I'm going to have it."

"If you so wish," said a resigned Ferrari.

"And I do," said Solon, then he added, "And what could you possibly give me that would get me to risk my life to do your dirty work."

"I'm offended, Solon, that you would consider the work that I've given you as 'dirty'." said Ferrari, "Besides, you know I always have some trinket or another that will capture that intellectual mind of yours."

"And would that be this time?" asked Solon.

"What do you remember from history class?" answered Ferrari, "About the Roman Empire and early church and what they did whenever they uncovered our kind?"

Solon wondered what that had to do with anything. Everyone knows that the Romans had wizards working for the empire as unofficial agents, conquering new lands and being the envy of the legionaries. As for the Christians, they never liked wizards, but they never become a threat till the Empire converted to Christianity and began to blame magic for the woes of the empire. But even then, it wasn't till Simon Magus made his infamous offer that wizards got a bad name in the eyes of the Church. That lone incident caused the church to hunt down any and all wizards they found, regardless of age or sex, and pillage whatever magical object they had found. Entire fields of magic were destroyed as they burned libraries filled with spellbooks and destroyed wands and brooms and pets. The ones the couldn't destroy they kept under lock and key. Somehow these vaults are unbreakable, having some sort of metal or charm that prevents wizards from just walking in and getting what is theirs. Then Solon thought for a moment and surprised himself.

"No...," Solon said with awe

"Indeed," answered Ferrari, "In exchange for a rather obscene number of...gifts, the Holy See is opening up some their ancient vaults and will send their contents to my council. From there, the council and I will oversee the task of finding homes for these newly released artifacts."

Then it dawned on Solon. "And since you happen to be a rather influential member of the council..." he said

"I can probably sway the council to give one of these artifacts to an accomplished scholar, such as yourself." answered Ferrari.

Solon let out a low whistle and said, "You really want me to do this, don't you?"

"If I can find someone else to do it for a few knuts, I would," replied Ferrari, "However, I doubt they'll be anywhere near as effective as you."

Solon raised a brow at the last comment. "Flattery will get you nowhere," he said

Leaning back, Ferrari said, "I beg to differ." Extending his hand, he added "So do we have a deal?"

"I'm going to regret this." said Solon as he took the hand.


End file.
